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Average customer rating based on 7 comments:

mikecampbellsan, August 19, 2012 (view all comments by mikecampbellsan)
A phantasmagorical work. A bit steam punky, a bit fantastical, and entirely engaging. If you want to dip your toe into the "New Weird" of fantasy/sci fi, this hit by China Mieville is a great choice. Follow up with The Scar if you like the world of New Crobuzon.

Anthony Thayer, September 2, 2011 (view all comments by Anthony Thayer)
The story Mr. Mieville spins about this amazing steampunk metropolis is so sprawling and varied that it is difficult to fit into my poor brain. Every re-read reveals more and more of the world, and every book that takes place in this world only adds to the weight and feel. Politics and rage and romance and descriptions that defy description make the whole thing feel so real. Though difficult to read at times, it pays to keep with it and see it through all of the filth and grit for the shining core of the story to come through.

mclarenster, January 14, 2010 (view all comments by mclarenster)
One of the best gift books I've ever received. When I started reading it I actually sighed in pleasure and snuggled down into the couch looking forward to a good, long read. (Part of my joy in this book is that it opened up the rest of Mieville's work to me.)

Was this comment helpful? | Yes | No(1 of 1 readers found this comment helpful)

Perdido Street Station is an excellent tale. The characters are realistic, as is the city they live in (even though it is a far-fetched fantasy land). The story is well paced and carries the reader forward — it will keep your interest piqued till the very end.

by Hobie

"Review"
by Kirkus Reviews,
"Earthy, sometimes outright disgusting — imagine finding your toilet blocked up by diamonds — but, amazingly in a book of this length, flawlessly plotted and relentlessly,stunningly inventive: a conceptual breakthrough of the highest order."

"Review"
by Jonathon Carroll,
"The most exciting, enthralling novel I have read in a long time. It is about everything important  love, work, hope, worlds we knew were out there but needed a writer like Miéville to show them to us. His imagination is vast, his talent volcanic. Read this book. It just might be a masterpiece."

"Review"
by Booklist,
"More world building than storytelling, the yarn at least suggests that the author of King Rat is marching forward in his fantasy-writing career."

"Review"
by John Clute,
"It is the best streampunk novel since Gibson and Sterling's."

"Review"
by Brian Stableford,
"[A] phantasmagoric masterpiece...The book left me breathless with admiration."

"Review"
by Publishers Weekly,
"Miéville's canvas is so breathtakingly broad that the details of individual subplots and characters sometimes lose their definition. But it is also generous enough to accommodate large dollops of aesthetics, scientific discussion, and quest fantasy in an impressive and ultimately pleasing epic."

"Review"
by Peter Hamilton,
"China Miéville's cool style has conjured up a triumphantly macabre technoslip metropolis with a unique atmosphere of horror and fascination."

"Synopsis"
by Ingram,
In the sprawling gothic city of New Crobuzon, a stranger requests the services of Isaac, an overweight and slightly eccentric scientist. But it is an impossible request — that of flight — and in the end Isaac's attempts will only succeed in unleashing a dark force upon the city.

"Synopsis"
by Random,
Chapter One

A window burst open high above the market. A basket flew from it and arced

towards the oblivious crowd. It spasmed in mid-air, then spun and

continued earthwards at a slower, uneven pace. Dancing precariously as it

descended, its wire-mesh caught and skittered on the buildings rough

hide. It scrabbled at the wall, sending paint and concrete dust plummeting

before it.

The sun shone through uneven cloud-cover with a bright grey light. Below

the basket the stalls and barrows lay like untidy spillage. The city

reeked. But today was market day down in Aspic Hole, and the pungent slick

of dung-smell and rot that rolled over New Crobuzon was, in these streets,

for these hours, improved with paprika and fresh tomato, hot oil and fish

and cinnamon, cured meat, banana and onion.

The food stalls stretched the noisy length of Shadrach Street. Books and

manuscripts and pictures filled up Selchit Pass, an avenue of desultory

banyans and crumbling concrete a little way to the east. There were

earthenware products spilling down the road to Barrackham in the south;

engine parts to the west; toys down one side street; clothes between two

more; and countless other goods filling all the alleys. The rows of

merchandise converged crookedly on Aspic Hole like spokes on a broken

wheel.

In the Hole itself all distinctions broke down. In the shadow

of old walls and unsafe towers were a pile of gears, a ramshackle

table of broken crockery and crude clay ornaments, a case of mouldering

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